Hey Elise // by Elise Hu

The saying is "bun in the oven," but SkyMall offers this great hot dog bun TOASTER!

Yep. I’m slowly wrapping my brain around this situation.

The Chinese think it is highly auspicious to have a “dragon baby” — a child born in the Year of the Dragon. (Women in China are rushing to get fertility treatments because a dragon baby is apparently too lucky to be left to chance. Crazy, right?) The Wall Street Journal reports:

Being aligned with cosmic forces is important in Chinese culture. The year of the dragon is supposed to be particularly fortunate for babies, marriages and businesses. Those born as dragons are “the strongest, smartest and the luckiest—supposedly,” says Yibing Huang, a professor of Chinese literature and culture at Connecticut College.

[...]

Chinese often schedule important life events to take advantage of the luckiest times. A recent lunar year that spanned two springs spurred a spike in weddings. And even though births are trickier to plan, in 2000, the most recent year of the dragon, 202,000 more babies were born in Taiwan than a year earlier, according to the Taipei Times citing government statistics.

I was personally way less interested in a dragon baby due to my own zodiac sign: the dog. It is the sign that’s least compatible with the dragon, and I already have one dragon to contend with — my husband. Now, barring unforeseen events, I’ll have two dragons to go up against. Grrrrreat.

Observation: My going vodka-free has created cascading problems. But the fetus has been awesome to me. Wouldn’t have been able to enjoy Costa Rica, assorted work travel and/or all the SXSW magic — Jay Z, Radiohead, etc — while sick. Fetus is always game to party. “Of course it is,” Fiscus said. “It is YOUR baby. Even if it looks like Matty.”

Fave Reactions:

ME: My eggo is preggo.
REEVE: Holy shit.

ME: I’m pregnant.
JAVAUN: [Incredulous] HOW DID THAT HAPPEN!?!?

ME: I’m knocked up dude.
JAY: Dude, you are going to be so huge.

ME: Yeah, so I’m pregnant.
MCKENNEY: That baby is going to come out with a vodka tonic in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

I started piano lessons at age five, and began competing in classical competitions by age seven. At eight, my playing partner Linh and I won the Missouri Music Teachers Association state title in duet, and even though I went on to perform and compete in classical piano until 9th grade, that early win was basically the highlight of my competitive piano career.

That's my cousin with Van Cliburn. (Photo by Van Cliburn Foundation)

Even then, I’d already heard the stories about my cousin Chris Shih, who lived in Maryland and was a piano prodigy. As I was growing up and fussing around with Chopin nocturnes, he was being backed by the National Symphony Orchestra and studying to be a doctor at the same time.

When I was 15, I met him for the first time in Fort Worth, where my mom took me to see him play in the preliminary round of the Van Cliburn International Piano competition. He was amazing. He represented the US in the prestigious professional contest even though he was really concentrating on wrapping up med school. Despite reviews calling his opening round performance “flawless,” he didn’t advance, possibly because the judges knew he wasn’t aiming to be a professional pianist.

Thank goodness the Van Cliburn Foundation created a similar quadrennial competition for amateurs above the age of 35, officially called the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition for Outstanding Amateurs. This year, Chris was finally old enough to enter, and lo and behold, HE WON the whole darn thiing. (For context, I recommend a compelling documentary about the 2007 contest, featuring some of the same finalists who Chris beat out last week.)

He totally MURDERED some Brahms for his final round performance. Thankfully my fantastic employer, NPR, posted Chris’ entire 30-minute performance of the Variations on a Theme from Handel (by Brahms, confusing, I know). NPR also interviewed Chris for Weekend All Things Considered, in which he talks about drug use and music all in one segment. Listen to both.

So it’s quite a treat to be part of the extended Shih family, with all the overachievers and all. I get a lot of questions about tiger moms ever since that became a meme, and I’m proud that all the success stories in the family were products of pretty progressive, hands-off parenting. Cheers to Chris and the anti-tiger parents out there.

Healthy mango tree, circa summer 2010.

Three years ago, when my parents were still living in St. Louis and not The Hague, my dad ate a grocery store mango and planted the seed in the ground to see what would happen. Being the excellent stewards of life he is, of course my Dad’s seed sprouted a tiny tree.

In 2009, after my dad retired and moved across the Atlantic with Mom, he forced this tree upon Matty and me. We drove it in the backseat of Matty’s car, from St. Louis to Austin. Dad kept telling us to plant it in the backyard, but I’d grown so attached to Mango Tree and his story that I didn’t want to plant him for fear we’d have to leave Austin someday.

Matty has cared for and talked to Mango Tree nearly every day for the past two years, as it’s sprouted more branches and inched taller and taller. If the temperature ever dropped below unbearably hot, Matty brought him inside. Then, when we made the difficult decision to move to Washington, Mango Tree rode in a backseat again, all the way from the 512 to the 202.

Dad came to visit last month. He was stunned and amused to see mango tree had grown to be a good three feet tall, especially since he actually remembers it as a seed.

Sick mango tree, tonight.

The mango tree that could — a sapling that came to symbolize a fruitful life for Matty and me and whose health gave us some confidence that we could successfully care for a living thing — is now quite ill.

His leaves have turned yellow and spotty, his branches are turning a powdery white. We think it’s a fungal disease. Dad said we needed to get him to a nursery to diagnose the issue. Matty, who’s out of town tonight, wants me to find some sort of spray to fight the illness yesterday. If you have suggestions for what else we oughta do, let me know.

I know it’s sort of ridiculous to feel so frantic about a plant. But as it is with pets, Mango Tree’s part of our family now. If there were an overpriced emergency nursery as there are emergency animal clinics, I’d be rushing the little guy there right now.

Time for another round of iPhone photos. We’re actually in my grandma’s home city of Taichung now, to celebrate Chinese New Year with the extended family. Family from Chicago and the DC area have joined us here at grandma’s for a mini-reunion, which is what Chinese New Year is all about.

In the unlikeliest of places, an underground used bookstore underneath YongKong St., Matty finds a 1975 printing of "Precision Journalism," by Philip Meyer, the father of data journalism.

Yeah, I'm four years old.

As part of Chinese New Year tradition, we honored Heaven and Earth by following the ritual of sacrifice to the ancestors, uniting ourselves with living members who had died. We sacrificed money and clothing.

Matty dives into a family game of mahjong, learning some Chinese characters along the way.

Looks like the Chinese company my little brother joined last week is movin’ on up. The Dow Jones Newswire reports:

Chinese K-12 tutoring company Tal Education registered to sell $100 million of American depositary shares in an initial public offering in the U.S.

It’s the second Chinese education firm this month to register for a U.S. debut, following test-prep company Global Education & Technology Group. Ambow Education Holding Ltd. (AMBO) launched its IPO last month.

With proceeds from its offering, Tal wants to expand its number of centers and build a national training center, as well as improve existing facilities. It will also pay a declared cash dividend and strengthen its curriculum and course material development.

Tal said in its filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission that it is China’s largest after-school tutoring company for kindergarten through 12th grade, according a report it commissioned. It tutors students on core subjects like math, English and chemistry, either through small classes, one-on-one work or online courses. By the end of February, it had about 383,000 student enrollments, up from roughly 67,000 two years prior.

Its two founders offered the group’s first math-tutoring class while they were still grad students at Peking University began tutoring math in 2003. Last year, its profit doubled as revenue rose 86%.

This means little Rog will be coming back to the US soon for their bell ringing deal. I hope it’s not on one of those bad days when the Dow drops a million points and he has to stand there all smiley…

Travis County District Judge Charlie Baird wedged our legal marriage proceedings after four folks on the criminal docket and before jury selection on some aggravated assault trial. Our closest friends in Austin, many who have small babies or large mortgages and cannot make it to Amsterdam, squeezed into the judge’s chambers with us for a quickie legal ceremony on Monday morning. I vaguely remember some sort of vows we had to repeat. But it felt like a strangely out of body experience once things got rolling. Stiles felt his knees locking so he obviously wasn’t more lucid than I was.

One of the women I asked to be a bridesmaid, Virginia, found out she was having a baby that would arrive one month before the wedding in Amsterdam (and boy is baby girl Cass a cutie). She won’t be coming overseas, but is a fantastic bridesmaid anyway. She hosted a classy, gorgeous engagement party at her house for us and guided me along on all things girly. (She also made a makeshift floral arrangement for me for the legal ceremony on Monday with the random fresh flowers she had around her house. Like I said, Virginia rocks.) So we picked her to be our witness, and she got all teary-eyed upon getting the assignment.

Afterwards, the group celebrated with chili cheese dogs (my favorite food). Matrimony Monday couldn’t have gone any better.

You may recall my cat Fitz from my earlier blogs. Friggin’ Fitz. He’s my orange tabby who likes living on the edge. Most cats live one of two ways: domestically, in which they stay inside or occassionally go outside and stay in the general home area. Or they’re feral, in which nature is their home. My cat Fitz lives in the area in between. He “runs away” for a year or so, and then surprises us by wandering back into the house through the dog door.

He’s back, for now. Last time he was home was spring 2009, if you don’t count the time he popped into the backyard to say hi real quick on Thanksgiving day.

Friggin' Fitz.

In 2008, he came home on Iowa caucus night bleeding from his neck. It sounds bad, but since I was too busy watching the Iowa caucuses and Fitz is perpetually getting into trouble, I just locked him in my room until all the precincts came in. Fitz has almost died numerous times. He’s on his 18th life or so. The last time I did a count of the numerous times he almost died was early ’08, and since then I’ve stopped counting.

9th life: Being born onto the streets of South Dallas. We’re talking the Oak Cliff area. Somehow finding his way to “safety” on the infamous grassy knoll, which happens to be at the mouth of a major interstate. (Hence the name “Fitz”, short for John Fitzgerald Kennedy Hu-St!les)

8th life: Getting taken into the Spartanburg Humane Society, which has one of the highest animal euthanasia rates in the country. He was miraculously rescued because the same day he was brought in, my friend Myra was outside doing a live report. She saw him and had to take him home with her… which is how I wound up with him.

7th life: Accidentally eating ibuprofen. It looks like he took in at least two Advil liquigels, which is toxic to cats. Almost died, stayed in the Emergency Clinic overnight with an IV in his little arm. Had to shoot him with some sort of subcutaneous fluids for two weeks.

6th life: Running away for two weeks. To this day we don’t know where Fitz was during the last half of September, 2007. We thought he was a goner, fer sho. But then he just came strolling back in when October came around.

5th life: Dog bite. How he got away after a dog got him by the neck is still a mystery to me.

I stopped counting, but I can say without question that the vet fees have cost more than my own healthcare.

With mom in Budapest.

We lost constant internet connectedness for the last week as we traveled Germany, Austria, Slovakia and Hungary by cruising down the Danube River. While we managed to check our emails once a day, not being tethered to the iPhone and other communications devices was a welcome break. I instead relished human connectedness – the kind with my family, the kind all too rare now that my mom, dad and brother are spread out across the globe.

The flights proved exhausting and frustrating as usual (but at least I didn’t have to spend the night in a baggage claim like that one night on the way back from China in 2007). Loved the Hungarians. One of our guides explained that being on the losing side of every war since the 17th century makes the people quite authentic and realistic — something that made us want to go back to Budapest, or as the locals say, Budapescht, quite soon.

Travel log:
Passau, Germany
Wachau Valley, Austria (includes cities of Melk and Dunstein)
Vienna, Austria
Budapest, Hungary
Esztergom, Hungary
Sturovo, Slovak Republic (just across the border from Esztergom)
Bratislava, Slovak Republic
Grein, Austria
Linz, Austria

And without further delay… the PHOTOS!!!

Europe Sept 09

This may be the only blogpost I get up this week, since we’re slowing floating down the Danube River in a skinny boat full of German senior citizens. Mom/Dad/brother Roger/Roger’s girlfriend and Mr. Stiles are all here; today we’re in Vienna, yesterday we were in the vinyeards of the Wachau Valley.

Internet access from the boat costs 40 euro an hour so we decided to live without it this week, with the exception of this current sojourn into a Viennese coffee shop to get amped up on caffeine and get a wifi fix.

Vienna’s shockingly beautiful — much like Paris but a totally different feel. Went on a long run along the Danube this morning and things were going well until my brother Roger joined and I suddenly tripped over a metal hook thing jutting out of the concrete. Bit it. Hard. But managed to not-seriously injure myself.

Should mention that the best part of this place, for me. Hot dog stands. Everywhere.